


Cutting Cloth

by Allekha



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chinese Fantasy, Dragons, F/F, Half-Sibling Incest, Shapeshifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allekha/pseuds/Allekha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lonely noble girl and a tiny dragon find in each other family, adventure, and intimacy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cutting Cloth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yue_ix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yue_ix/gifts).



Qingzhao wandered the family's garden, restless. It was the day of the Chrysanthemum festival, and she knew that beyond the family estate, people were climbing mountains and moon-watching together. Here, she had drank a few sips of chrysanthemum wine and eaten a small traditional cake.

It would have been nice to go out – in fact, she had dreamed of it this past week. But as the family's only daughter, and only eleven years old, there were few people it would have been proper for her to go with, and none of the circumstances had aligned this year. Mother was sick again, laid up with constant headaches; Father hadn't been up for the trip, too tired from work.

Qingzhao knew she should be practicing her handwriting, or doing embroidery, while the daylight lasted, but she had been sitting around the entire day already, and her legs ached for some walking. And the garden, at least, was quiet. Lonesome. And the flowers were pretty.

She sat by the pond for a while, watching the frogs and composing metaphors about them. Maybe her tutor would be impressed tomorrow; more likely, her tutor would sigh and tell her to read more. None of her poetry, it seemed, was ever any good, no matter how proud of it she had been up until the moment of her scolding.

What roused her from the side of the water was not the darkening of the light, nor the cramp starting up in her leg – it was the sound of falling stones. It came from the direction of the house. Perhaps a servant had come to fetch her and been clumsy? If that was the case, there was no use in lingering further.

On rounding the azalea bush, she slowed to a stop. Indeed, an old statue, too worn to distinguish the features of its face any longer, had fallen over. Pinned underneath, squirming and writing, was a tiny dragon. Oh, it was certainly a dragon, with a deer's antlers and catfish whiskers and a scaled, serpentine body thrashing to and fro, but it was nothing like any painting she had ever seen: it was only the size of one of her arms, perhaps.

Well, she couldn't just _leave_ it there. Qingzhao rushed forward and gathered up her skirts as she crouched. The statue was heavy, too heavy for her to just lift, but she was able to pry it off the dragon for a few moments, and that was all that mattered. Faster than she could see, the dragon whipped out of its entrapment and climbed onto the stone lamp post just next to her.

She stared at the dragon. The dragon stared back at her. It was really quite lovely, a deep sapphire color, with eyes like amethysts.

What did one say to a dragon?

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"No," the dragon replied, curling its tail. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome." She remained crouching where she was; here she was nearly eye-level with the dragon.

"What is your name?" it asked. No, she – that was a girl's voice, wasn't it? It sounded much like her own.

"Qingzhao." She wondered if it was proper to add on a pleasantry like 'nice to meet you', but before she could decide, the dragon was already speaking again.

"And I am Shuzhen." She straightened her tail again. "If it pleases you, I would like to visit soon."

Qingzhao nodded, her heartbeat speeding. "Of course." Who would ever refuse a visit from a _dragon_? And such a tiny, pretty one, too. Besides, no-one ever came to visit her, only her parents – Qingzhao had no real friends to call her own, though her parents had tried many times.

Shuzhen nodded as well, then crouched and jumped. To Qingzhao's amazement, instead of falling, she swam into the sky, up and up until she was no longer distinguishable from the clouds.

~!~

'Soon', Shuzhen had said, but it was nearly six months before Qingzhao saw her again. It was a cloudy day, and though the winter would be ending soon, it was cold enough to threaten more snow. Her maid, Huilan, always a little more dour than usual after Qingzhao had met with her parents, had refused to let her go out. It took much pleading to get her to relent.

Because of the cold, no-one else was out – not that Qingzhao minded. She was used to loneliness, not the kind that came from lack of people (for there was nearly always some servant or tutor by her side), but the kind that came from lack of people to truly talk with. And the garden was beautiful, covered up in snow, even if the snow was half-melted and going a bit slushy where it wasn't freezing again.

The tiny dragon was easy to spot among the white and grey, almost jewel-colored. "Hello again," she said, curling from the air down to the icy surface of a bench. "Qingzhao, was it?"

"Yes." She wasn't sure what to say that would be polite, so she sat down on the bench as well. "Are you cold?"

"No, no, though thank you for your concern. It is much colder up among the clouds than it is here, so I am used to it." The dragon peered around. "Is there no-one else to keep you company, Qingzhao?"

"I don't have any siblings." And what an awful burden it had been so far – she was the jewel of her parents' eyes, but sometimes she wondered if it was only because of the whispers she had heard even as a child. That there was something wrong with her mother, or father, or their relationships, or _wasn't it so terrible that they had no son_? Hmph. She would bring them as much honor as any son could. "No-one else wants to come out in this sort of weather if they don't need to. At least, none of the other humans," she amended, wondering if she had just made an insulting remark.

But Shuzhen seemed amused, not offended. "Except for you? What is that you like, the snow or the air?"

"The snow's nice. But the air is good, too; it feels so sharp. It almost seems healthier than when it's summer and it's so humid you don't want to breathe."

Shuzhen laughed, and with a leap she was curled around Qingzhao's neck like a bizarre necklace. "Would you do me the favor of showing me around?"

So Qingzhao did, showing Shuzhen the paths and the bushes and the pond. They stopped there for a while, though the surface was misted over with ice, and Shuzhen gave her a bit of advice on her metaphors. Before they could get any further, though, Huilan came calling for her, and Shuzhen slipped from her shoulders. "Until next time," she promised, dancing away. Qingzhao watched her, though the bright sky made her eyes water, and Huilan had to call twice more before she turned back to her quarters.

~!~

Qingzhao didn't have to wait quite so long for that 'next time', though it was already the height of summer. She had decided to try and escape the pressing heat, which even the evening did not abate, by retreating back down to the pond to study. Without anyone to watch her, she kicked off her silk shoes, hitched up her skirts, and let her feet trail in the water. The fish nibbled on them a little, but they soon lost interest.

A weight from nowhere settled around her shoulders. "Oh, is it history this time?" Shuzhen spoke into her ear.

Qingzhao managed not to jump. "Yes. I don't suppose you have any advise for memorizing it?"

"I am afraid not – I am only a few years older than you, and we must study too to come and know things."

"Oh." The thought of dragons being young and perhaps not supremely wise was strange to her, but she supposed that if they reproduced, then any dragon must have been young once. And Shuzhen was small. "Do you study from books too, then?"

"Yes. Books and scrolls and our elders."

It felt strange to try and neglect her guest for her studies, so Qingzhao shut the book. "Shall we finish our tour?" she offered instead.

She took Shuzhen through the fruit trees and showed her the paulownia stretching up beside her own quarters; someday, it would become a piece of her furniture when she got married, though she rather preferred it as a tree. "Is this a human tradition?" Shuzhen asked, abandoning Qingzhao's shoulders to wind her way up the tree. Only then did Qingzhao realize that Shuzhen's scales had been cooling; she missed it all of a sudden.

"Yes. My mother's dresser is made of the tree that was planted when she was born. If they insist on cutting mine down, I'd rather it become an instrument."

"What do you play?" Shuzhen looked down at her from an overhanging branch, head cocked.

"Um. Well, I've been learning the zither lately, but I'm not very good at it yet. Do dragons play instruments?"

That made Shuzhen laugh and loosen her hold upon the branch. She glided back down to Qingzhao's shoulders. "No, we do not, though many of us like music."

"I suppose it would be difficult to play any – well, any kind of _human_ instrument with claws like that."

Shuzhen took to the air again, coiling in front of her. "I would be something of an exception – shall I show you a secret?"

Qingzhao nodded and held her breath. Over the course of a few seconds, the brilliant blue of Shuzhen's scales paled and dulled; her whiskers drew in on themselves, and her claws lengthened and softened. Then a girl stood in front of her, only a couple of years older, with amethyst eyes and a blue tone to her black hair. She was dressed in seafoam-colored silk, and when she tilted her head and smiled, Qingzhao was captivated.

"You're so pretty," she finally said. She couldn't help but stare, as rude as it was.

Qingzhao's smiled deepened, and she reached out a cool hand to rest it on Shuzhen's cheek. "We look quite alike, you and I," she mused. She looked as if she were about to say something further, but then Huilan emerged from Qingzhao's quarters, and before she could blink there was nothing in front of her.

"Mistress, it is time for dinner," Huilan said. "Come, put your book away and change – and why are you not wearing your shoes? You must scrub your feet."

She ate with her parents that evening. As was usual, they asked about her studies, and then Mother asked about her day.

"I studied by the pond today," Qingzhao said. "It's cool down there, and I thought I saw a dragon in the reflection."

Father looked intrigued, and opened his mouth – but Huilan snapped, "Don't make up stories like that," which startled Qingzhao so much she almost dropped her chopsticks. For some reason, Mother didn't look interested in the least, just looked away and sighed.

~!~

The next time they met was early autumn, when the leaves hadn't even turned colors yet. Qingzhao was working on embroidery in her room, her window wide open despite the drizzle coming down outside. Huilan had been working with her earlier, before being called off to deal with something-or-other.

Shuzhen came flowing in through the window, and Qingzhao immediately set her needlework aside as the dragon became a girl again. For the past few months, she had through she had imagined what Shuzhen looked like, had built her up as prettier than she really was, but no. Shuzhen as a girl would have stood out in any crowd, even without her odd eyes or the tint to her hair. Maybe it was her stare, or her smile, or the way she glided across the floor to sit on Qingzhao's bed.

"Hello again," Qingzhao said.

"Hello," Shuzhen replied, taking a long look around the room. "So this is where you live."

"Yes." Qingzhao stood up and moved to sit beside her. She meant to say something, but it flew from her mind as soon as Shuzhen looked at her. Her gaze was enchanting this close up.

"It is nice," Qingzhao said. "Do your parents also live in this building?"

"No, um, this is just for me. They live and conduct business in the main house. So I see them most days, but I have my lessons and everything over here."

"Hm. How different. I live under a lake with my father. The thought of having to be separated from him just because I'm a child... hm."

Qingzhao didn't know what to say to that, so instead she asked, "Is it a nice lake?" Which wasn't a very intelligent question, but she didn't have any that _were_.

"It's beautiful. You must see it someday – it is quite nearby. I am sure that even a human could make the trip from here and back in a day."

"I'd like to. Um, is your mother...?"

Shuzhen frowned and looked away; Qingzhao feared she had offended her, but then she sighed and said, "My father told me that my mother is still alive. However, I have never met her. She is a human, so it might be difficult."

"Oh!" Qingzhao's hands flew to her mouth. "I didn't know that... oh, so that's why you can transform like that?" Shuzhen nodded. "Do you know her name, at least?"

Shuzhen spoke it quietly, into her lap.

"What a weird coincidence, that's my mother's name too."

Shuzhen finally looked at her again. This time, she stared without blinking for an uncomfortably long time; Qingzhao broke her gaze and fidgeted with her bed coverings, but still Shuzhen stared at her; she could see it out of the corner of her eye.

Shuzhen said, "Shall I tell you a story?"

"Okay."

"My father told this to me. The story goes like this: in the time before I was born, a local human noblewoman would often visit the lake. She had often visited it as a child with her family, and when she grew into an adult she retained a fondness for it. She liked to feed the ducks, and would read and write poetry by its shores, and drank many cups of tea while admiring its calmness. One day, when she was visiting, it happened to rain, and she slipped on the dock and fell into the water. My father had admired her from afar for a long time, and had even considered approaching her; he acted swiftly and saved her life."

Footsteps approached the door; they both turned their heads to look. Qingzhao prayed that no-one would enter and interrupt the story. Thankfully, whoever it was passed the room by, and the footsteps faded from hearing again. She sighed in relief before looking to Shuzhen again.

Shuzhen cleared her throat. "The woman was, of course, very thankful to my father for rescuing her. After that day, whenever she came to the lake, she would talk with him for many hours. In time, they fell in love with each other. She suddenly stopped visiting for several months, and when she next returned to the lake, she brought an infant with her, and she looked very sad. She told my father that this child was his, but that she seemed ill, and the whispering servants had no idea what to do. My father knew that this child – myself – needed to be in the water for a while after I was born, and when my mother lowered me into it, I turned into my dragon form and became quite vigorous. And then my mother broke down in tears, and told my father that although she loved him and me very much, but that she was soon to be married to a human nobleman, and that she could not further dishonor her family. My father was also upset, and he did not understand human customs well, but he could see that this was important to her, and he told her that he would wait to see her again and would always look forward to meeting her. Finally, she had to leave, and she has yet to return to our lake."

"Oh," Qingzhao sighed. "What a sad story. I hope your parents get to see each other again some day."

"Yes," Shuzhen said, staring at her again. "Shall I tell you the name of her husband?" This time she leaned close and whispered it in Qingzhao's ear, which made her shiver.

And the name made her frown. "But... that's my father's name."

"Yes," Shuzhen said again.

"You mean... your mother is my mother?"

Shuzhen nodded and leaned in closer. "And so you do have a sibling, dear Qingzhao."

"You're my sister," she said faintly. "That's why you've been coming to visit."

"I wanted to learn who you were... and to see what became of my mother."

"Then why are you talking to me? I mean, I'm glad, I like you, but she's your mother, isn't she? Couldn't you go visit with her? I'm sure she would love to see you again – you're her own child."

Shuzhen closed her eyes. "As I said, it would be difficult. Does she wish to forget me, or know who have I become? Besides, I cannot yet remain in this form for long." As she said it, she became the dragon again, curled up on Qingzhao's pillow. "Perhaps some day. But I am also glad to know you, Qingzhao. I, too, have so far been an only child."

~!~

Shuzhen's next visit was a month later. The next was a month after that. Then half a month after that, then a week. Eventually, Shuzhen was visiting every few days.

Qingzhao didn't encourage her to see Mother again. Not just because she thought it wouldn't work, or because she was afraid of annoying Shuzhen too much and driving her off again – but she was starting to find that it was nice to have something of her own for once. Oh, she had clothes and such, but clothes would be replaced with others much the same when she outgrew them, and even if a fan was pretty it cooled her off as well as any other. Shuzhen was not like another person; there was no replacement for her.

They studied together by the pond, and Qingzhao found that her tutors' comments became more positive. Not just about her poetry, for which Shuzhen gave good advice, but also her history and philosophy, because she spent so much time explaining everything to Shuzhen.

Other days, she would teach Shuzhen about human customs. It took an entire afternoon to teach her how to eat with chopsticks. Qingzhao had to correct her grip a dozen times, and she kept dropping the fish bones that they were using for practice.

"What do dragons eat?" Qingzhao asked afterward, when they lounged together on her bed, Shuzhen back into her dragon form.

"Oh, this and that. Many things. Things that humans eat and things that humans do not eat. However, we do not require as much sustenance as you do, either."

Over months and months, Shuzhen started to stay overnight once in a while, and her visits grew ever more frequent, until one day Qingzhao looked up from her embroidery and saw Shuzhen dozing on her windowsill, and realized that she couldn't remember the last time Shuzhen had been gone.

She was sixteen, and the next day she received her first marriage offer.

They discussed it while Qingzhao sat at the roots of her paulownia tree, staring up into its branches. Shuzhen, lately, had taken not just to looping around her neck, but winding around her arm or chest and poking her snout out the top of Qingzhao's robe, as she was today. She had snuck into more than one of Qingzhao's lessons hidden under her clothes like that.

"They won't accept it," Qingzhao said. "They'll wait a few years before even considering anything. If I were really resistant, they might even let me care for them until they're gone. But they'd be hoping for a suitor who would be willing to move in here, even if it's not the way things are done."

"And if they accept it, you will have to marry this person? Even if you have your own objections?"

"Yes? It's the way things are. It would be dishonorable to refuse. Besides, my parents would want me to marry someone who is a good match. Let me guess, dragons do it differently?"

"We choose our own mates, yes. Our parents guide us, but ultimately, we are the ones to make the decision."

Qingzhao sighed and thumped her head against the bark. "You have a lot more wisdom to draw on, though, and you're in for a much longer time."

Shuzhen snorted, her breath humid against Qingzhao's neck; it made her shiver.

~!~

Qingzhao was in the middle of eating breakfast, peaches and millet porridge with honey and berries that she slipped to Shuzhen, when Huilan entered and told her that she was to go to the main house. She barely had to step foot into it to see that something was awry: the family doctor was on his way out. He paused so they could exchange awkward bows before he continued on his way and she hurried to her parents's quarters, Shuzhen wrapped securely around her chest.

"Your mother is ill," Father told her as he let her in. "The doctor just left some medicine, but she could use some comfort."

"Of course." Shuzhen tightened around her ribs, making it hard to breathe for a moment. She rarely accompanied Qingzhao when she had time with her parents. Qingzhao tried to ignore her breathing and instead approached the bed with quiet footsteps. It was the middle of the day, but the gauzy curtains were half drawn around it. "Mother? How do you feel?"

"Better, now that the doctor has come." Qingzhao sat on the covers next to her. "There's no need to look so concerned. It is only a cold, it will pass."

"I know." But Mother looked so pale in the dimmed light, her hair roughly braided instead of put in an intricate style. "Would it please you to hear music?"

"Oh, yes. Play me that new piece that you've been learning."

A servant brought her zither, and Qingzhao played for what seemed like half the afternoon. It gradually grew more difficult as Shuzhen's grip grew more and more suffocating. By the time Mother had fallen asleep and Father let her take her leave, Qingzhao could barely hide how hard it was for her to take breath.

She made it all the way to the pond, starting to go lightheaded, before Shuzhen let her go and flowed out of her robe. Qingzhao coughed and took several deep lungfuls of air. "Was that so necessary?"

But Shuzhen did not reply or apologize; instead she danced loops in the air, looking agitated. "That was _not_ a mere cold."

"Then what was it?"

"I do not know. But it was not a cold."

"How do you know?"

Again, Shuzhen did not reply. Qingzhao was hungry, her shoulders and fingers ached, and when she sighed there was still no further answer to her questions. Impatient, she turned and stalked off to her side house. Shuzhen followed moments later and wormed her way up a sleeve, her head poking out by Qingzhao's ear.

"If she does not improve, I will ask Father about it."

"Alright."

"I apologize for treating you so roughly; I was anxious and did not control myself properly."

"Alright," Qingzhao said again, though this time her shoulders actually relaxed.

~!~

Three days passed. Qingzhao embroidered until her back ached, sat through long lessons, and begged Shuzhen until she agreed to play catch. They were only able to play for a few minutes, though, before Huilan came looking.

She visited Mother again, this time with Shuzhen roped around her shoulder and not her ribs. Mother looked much the same as before, with perhaps a little less good cheer to her voice.

True to what she had said, Shuzhen curled into the air like a whisp of smoke and vanished for three more days. All of a sudden, Qingzhao had trouble sleeping, though she had never had a problem before Shuzhen had moved in with her. But now there was no weight on her pillow or cool shape pushed against her chest, and it was so unfamiliar that she rose in the morning not knowing if she had slept at all.

Therefore, she was much relieved – for both her own sake and for that of her parents – when Shuzhen repeared in the middle of the third night. "What did you find out?" Qingzhao asked, arranging the covers on her lap so that Shuzhen could sit there.

She did so, and then said, "My father cannot diagnose her from afar, of course, but he said that if her condition worsens, he knows of an alchemist a few days of travel to the north. This alchemist can diagnose any illness with just a strand of hair, it is said."

"Mother's fever has gone up, and the doctor's medicine isn't working."

Shuzhen coiled up further. "He also said that this alchemist does not like to be interrupted in his work. Also, he said, this man does not extract payment in gold, but in some art or another. I am afraid that he did not know the specifics, or perhaps the requirements change depending on the supplicant."

"Mother is in pain."

"It is a difficult distance for me to make on my own."

"But you're a dragon!"

"A small one yet, and not with great defenses."

Qingzhao huffed. "In human culture, we have this idea called filial piety – that is to say, we must repect our familial elders, even if we have to cut off our own flesh to feed them."

Shuzhen bared her fangs. "Do you accuse me of--"

"I'm not accusing you of _anything_ ," Qingzhao hissed. "I'm just trying to say, who was it who said that you would have to go alone?"

Shuzhen quieted at that. She uncoiled from Qingzhao's lap and floated, rippling and undulating, in front of her face. "It will be dangerous. And you are not experienced with traveling by yourself."

"It won't be 'by myself', will it, if you're there. Besides, I can ride a horse, at least. And you yourself said it is only a few days away. I'm really worried, you know – she's starting to have trouble eating anything. Everyone thinks she's going to die. They won't say it, but you can still hear it. Shuzhen, you haven't seen her."

Shuzhen bowed her head. "If you are willing to risk the discomfort and danger, then we shall find this alchemist together."

Qingzhao threw off her covers and sprang to her feet. "Then we better get moving – this is the perfect time to prepare and leave, while everyone's sleeping." She hastened to her chest of drawers and pulled out her oldest, most shoddy clothing that hadn't yet been handed down to a servant. As soon as she had changed, Shuzhen settled around her shoulders, beneath her robe. Qingzhao only took a moment to find her riding boots and then slipped out the door.

She told the guard at the door that she couldn't sleep and was going for a walk. At the main house, she tuned her voice childish and high and told the guard there that she had seen a _terrible_ dream and wanted to see Mother. His face softened, and instead of sending he back, he didn't question her further as she stepped in.

"Where are we going?" Shuzhen hissed in her ear as she passed the kitchens.

"You said we need a strand of hair for the alchemist. Besides, if this... if this doesn't work or we're not in time...." Tears suddenly swelled in her vision as her breath caught. She swallowed and blinked them away. "Wouldn't you have wanted to talk with her once?" she whispered.

Shuzhen was silent. Qingzhao padded down the hall and pushed open the door to her parents' quarters as quietly as she could.

There was only one occupant in the bed – Father had taken to sleeping in his study, so as not to aggravate Mother's fever.

Mother awoke even from the small amount of noise that Qingzhao made, or maybe she hadn't been asleep. "Hello?" she called out.

Qingzhao stepped in and closed the door behind her. "Mother," she murmured.

"Oh, dearest. Could you not sleep?"

"No," she said, and took a shuddering breath. "There's something I wanted to show you."

Mother couldn't quite sit up any longer, but the covers rustled. Qingzhao walked up to her side. "What is it?" Mother asked.

The cool weight around her shoulders slipped out a sleeve and to the floor. In moments, Qingzhao stood as a girl in the moonlight.

Mother gasped and pushed herself up, only to collapse part of the way again. Qingzhao dove to help support her. "Shuzhen," Mother breathed. "You must be."

"Yes," Shuzhen said. She looked uncertain, holding too still. "I know it has been a long time, but I came to meet you, Mother."

"Shuzhen," Mother whispered again, and then she was crying. She reached out; Shuzhen hesitated, but after a moment she approached and sat on the bed, let herself be embraced. "Oh, my lost daughter. Look at you, growing up so beautiful."

"I am sorry it took so long," Shuzhen said.

"It's alright," Mother said, cupping her cheek. "I have thought of you so often. Oh, you look like him. You really are his daughter."

"And yours," Shuzhen said, covering the hand on her cheek with one of her own. And then her uncertain expression broke; she closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Qingzhao retreated to the other side of the room and let her eyes make patterns of the shadows until they were done. "I will come and visit you again, soon," Shuzhen told Mother, and then she was at Qingzhao's side again.

"I will be waiting for that day."

Shuzhen became a dragon again and settled on Qingzhao's head. Faintly, she could feel a strand of hair whispering against her neck. "Goodnight, Mother," they chimed together, before leaving the room and entering the dark hallway.

~!~

Shuzhen helped her pick out what to pack. They picked out food from the kitchens, along with containers for carrying water. Qingzhao found a bag to pack and folded in a couple of blankets, as well, and wound up Mother's hair and placed it in an inner pocket. When they were finished, they slipped out the servants' entrance and to the stables.

"The only thing is," Qingzhao said while she tacked up her favorite mare, "how are we going to sneak a horse past the guard at the gate?"

"Do not worry about that. I will take care of it." Shuzhen, who had been watching from a rafter, glided out the door. Qingzhao huffed. The mare shifted in place, nearly knocking the saddle askew, and she had to re-tighten it _again_.

She led the horse to the entrance of the stables and peeked out. Within a minute she was rewarded by a crackling sound – like fireworks – and a bright shower of sparkles from an obscure corner of the estate. The guards, of course, rushed off to investigate, several going right by her and not even noticing.

Qingzhao mounted the horse and urged her out. Soon, the guards would sweep the entire estate and discover that she was missing – there was no time to linger.

Shuzhen came dancing down from the sky some time later, while Qingzhao was debating whether she should find a place to stop until the dawn; with the excitement of leaving the escape draining, she was starting to tire, the lack of sleeping catching up to her.

"There is a park three streets over," Shuzhen suggested. She rested like a necklace outside Qingzhao's robe, her tail dipping under it and trailing down her shoulder blades. "Surely you could sleep a few hours there, and I would watch out to make sure no-one comes."

~!~

The first day, they had little trouble. Qingzhao did find out that though she knew how to ride a horse, riding one for an hour and riding one for a day were rather different. But if it would help Mother, she could endure the the pain in her thighs.

Besides, there were so many things to look at! Yes, she had been outside of the estate before, but never unsupervised, never free to choose which road to take, never exposed to all the people passing by. She probably stared too much, but who knew when she would get a chance like this again?

They made it out of the city and turned north. The road was only a little less busy than the main streets of the city, full of farmers hauling chickens and vegetables to sell, fisherman on their way to the river, and the occasional official in a bright hat. By the evening, they were surrounded by farmland.

Qingzhao was very glad that she had packed two blankets when they settled down for the night in a small copse of trees. It was colder out than she would have thought, and the ground was much harder than her own bed.

The second day, they were attacked by a thief. Qingzhao had tried her best to make her high standing inconspicuous, but silk clothes were silk clothes and a horse was a horse. Frightened, she backed the horse away from the man, which only made him demand her belongings again in an even louder voice. She clutched at the reins, not sure what to do.

Shuzhen flowed out of the back of her collar, unseen, while Qingzhao stammered a refusal. Behind the man, Shuzhen became the girl and said, "You should stop harassing her."

The man whirled; he had just drawn his knife, and Shuzhen had to take a graceful step back from it. "You should stop harassing her," she said again. This time, when the man made to stab her, she caught his hand with one of hers and pressed the other against his chest. She sighed; mist collected on her breath. The man's skin went white, almost blue, and he collapsed to the ground.

"Shuzhen?"

"He will recover by tomorrow, if the locals do not find him and take exception first." Still in her human form, she jumped lightly up on the back of the horse and wrapped her arms around Qingzhao. "Shall we move on?"

"Yeah, um, thanks. I was really scared. It won't be too heavy for the horse?"

Shuzhen laughed in her ear. "I can make myself like a cloud, if I wish; the horse will have no trouble."

No-one else bothered them that day, and those they passed on the road avoided Qingzhao's gaze. She didn't much care; Shuzhen was singing little ditties in her ear, her arms a comforting weight around Qingzhao's hips.

On the third day, the farmland began to fall away, to be replaced by stretches of wild countryside. The path grew steeper as they approached the foothills before the mountains. Qingzhao was awoken by a drizzle, and the rain only increased in strength as they went on. She rode with one of the blankets thrown over her head, so that at least she would be warm if not dry. Shuzhen had been planning on flying ahead to scout for this alchemist's hut, but the winds were apparently too strong for her to fly against for long.

They came to a split in the road. "Left or right?" Qingzhao asked. Shuzhen poked her head out of Qingzhao's robe to take a look.

"I do not know. Shall I go and see if there are any clues?"

"Okay."

Shuzhen looped into the air, hovered a moment, and then flew right, a blur of blue among the rain drops.

Once she had been gone for a couple of minutes, Qingzhao found herself growing bored. She hefted the blanket further over her face and dropped the reins. The rain had completely soaked through it, though she doubted it had been much more than an hour since they started out this morning. She peered around, looking for something interesting.

There was grass. And a muddy road. There were trees, which might have made for a nice ink painting by an artist. And the mountains, of course, rising up blue in the background. She dearly hoped the alchemist's house was not among them; even these steep hills were starting to annoy her. Shuzhen would return soon, right? She had to find the alchemist.

Sighing, Qingzhao tilted her head back and eyed the clouds for a moment. Lighting flashed just as she had lowered her gaze again; thankfully, the rumble was far off, but if it came much closer they would have to stop and shelter. Wonderful.

Lightning lit the sky again. Qingzhao frowned up at it. It flashed _again_ – goodness – and, wait, what was that thing on the hill that had reflected the light? It was difficult to see, but....

Her heart sped up. Qingzhao tied the mare under a tree and approached the hill. She couldn't _see_. It was probably juts her imagination. But, well, she was already waiting for Shuzhen....

She checked her boots and started to climb. It was difficult, as the grade was steep, and more than once the mud gave way underneath her, and while she held her blanket on with one hand, she had to use the other to help pull herself up and balance. When she finally reached the trees on the top, she was struggling for breath.

A few moments later, Shuzhen flew over. "What are you doing?"

"Look," she panted, and pointed.

It was a house with an abundant garden.

~!~

The man who opened the door was old, but his white hair was pulled back into a sleek topknot and she could practically feel him attempting to assess her.

"Excuse me, but could we please come in from this terrible weather?"

He didn't seem surprised at seeing a dragon, either. He let them in.

"Are you the alchemist?" Shuzhen demanded, and he replied to the affirmative, but Qingzhao was immediately distracted from the conversation.

From the ceiling hung a multitude of drying herbs, which gave the air a choked, earthy scent. She spotted mercury sitting in a pan, cinnabar lying on a counter. There was a mortal and pestle, and scales, and other devices that she had never seen before.

"Qingzhao," Shuzhen said, and she returned her attention to the conversation. "His price."

"Oh, um, sorry, I wasn't...."

"I am a lover of poetry," he said, folding his hands together. "Let us play poetry off each other, and if I find your sufficient, I will produce this cure you ask of."

He recited a poem that sounded vaguely familiar, but wasn't one she had ever exactly heard of; she replied with original verse, pulling on one of the images of his. They went back and forth like this for long enough that she lost track of time; she desperately tried to remember every piece of advice Shuzhen had ever given her, took comfort in Shuzhen's weight wound around her arm and wrist.

Eventually her mind blanked. She tried to think of something, _anything_ , but her panic seemed to rob her mind even more quickly. The alchemist stared at her, which didn't help.

She felt like she was about to vomit from sheer nerves when he finally said, "That is sufficient. Where is a hair from this woman's head?"

~!~

They had a cure! They had a cure! The words looped through Qingzhao's head as she urged the horse faster though the suddenly clearing weather. Shuzhen, in her human form, sat behind her, still giggling and giddy; Qingzhao could feel her smile where it was pressed against her neck.

They made much better time getting home, though the mare seemed about to give out near the end, and Qingzhao herself was exhausted and aching. When they burst into the estate, though, she forced herself to sit high and ignore the shouting of the guards and servants. She did not answer their questions and confusion, but slid herself off the horse and helped Shuzhen down. Straight-backed, she commanded, "Someone take care of the horse."

Father appeared. "Qingzhao! Where have you been? We were worried about you."

"I must see Mother," she said, looking him in the eye.

"You must tell us where you have been first." His gaze had moved from her face to just beside it – to Shuzhen's, presumably – and he was frowning. "And who this stranger is."

"I must see Mother," she repeated, and drew out the alchemist's potion. Father's eyes went wide, and he pulled her inside, Shuzhen trailing behind.

Mother looked so close to death that it frightened Qingzhao, but as Father fed her the potion, sip by tiny sip, she opened her eyes again and smiled. Qingzhao's relief crashed into her exhaustion, and she sunk to the floor, no longer able to stand.

"Oh, my daughters, come here and let me see you," Mother said, and Father looked a little pained, and Shuzhen had to help her stand.

~!~

She was promised that there would be more questions in the morning, and consequences for her adventure (though Father's face was soft when he scolded her for going out on her own, and she thought that he would surely go softly on her). Father had hugged her and praised her at the end of it, and at some point Shuzhen had disappeared.

There was a dragon on her pillow when she returned. After all that riding, her room felt confining, and her excitement had risen again; surely she would not be able to sleep yet. So Shuzhen spirited her out the window and they giggled together near the paulownia tree, happy for their success.

Shuzhen spun her around and Qingzhao slipped on the dew, but the fall only made them giggle more. Shuzhen's eyes were practically glowing. Qingzhao could not look away. She reached for the tie of Qingzhao's robe. "What are you doing?" she asked, confused, as Shuzhen tugged the tie away.

"Let me do this," Shuzhen whispered to her collarbone. "Let me share this happiness with you."

Oh. This was wrong, Qingzhao knew, this was _incest_ , but Shuzhen was so pretty as both a human and a dragon, and kind, and she was tired and elated at the same time. It was easier to tilt her head into the grass and let Shuzhen part her clothes.

~!~

"Goodness," Qingzhao breathed, still splayed in the grass, though with her robe wrapped around her properly again. "Can human men do _that_ with their tongues?"

"I do not believe so," Shuzhen said, quite smug. She was in human form again, and she tucked her head under Qingzhao's. Her cool skin felt good against Qingzhao's overheated neck and hands.

"Then I shall never get married," Qingzhao sighed, wearily raising one hand – the one that Shuzhen wasn't laying on – to drape across her forehead. "I like the idea of writing poetry under my own name better, anyway."

Shuzhen laughed, her chuckles vibrating through Qingzhao's jaw. "If you make it into a matter of filial piety, who will fuss?"

Qingzhao huffed and wrapped her other arm around Shuzhen's bony shoulders. They lay like that for a long time, watching the stars together.


End file.
